Patient 11, the story
by deathsinger
Summary: Last year I wrote a short story, people did not like it. The story was called patient 11, look it up please. SO here I am with the same story from anothers viewpoint. Currently, my other story is postponed till this one is finished.
1. Prolouge

Patient 11 Revised

Written by Aratheus Arkon

My name is Aratheus Arkaron (Or at least that's what I named myself.), I am 15 years old and am the son of Helios and another half blood, or more like three-fourths blood because she in turn was the daughter of Aphrodite and her father, who was the son of Zeus. Yeah, I know they are all sortta prone to having children with gods but that is unimportant to the story. See last year some guy dug up my files and put them on the internet. The files are crap without the back story, there is no history, you have no idea what's going on, and your brain hurts.

Well my story starts around four or five years ago when the recruitment of the army of Chronos got real serious. I got mixed up in events that probably were not really the best of things to get caught up in. Then I met all the wrong people and ended up killing all my friends, going insane, stabbing a doctor, blowing a hole in a hospital wall running all over New York, and worst of all losing everything, not material possessions but respect, friendship, and…love.

Now you are probably wondering what could have caused all this misery, right? Well, shut up and go away! You don't deserve to know if you are that nosy. GOOODDD, the nerve of some people. Gosh! (Think of a sarcastic chick voice and say this out loud.)

But to those that didn't and took pity on me or felt sorry for my inevitable fate, you may sit down and listen to my sad tale. But be forewarned, not only is the tale itself dangerous, but it is a tale of tragedy, angst, mortality, love, mystery, but mostly of death………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………


	2. Chapter 1: The opening

Chapter 1: I Am Crazy

Me personally, I think that life is a basket of roses till someone tries to kill you, that is the motto I live by. See you are born, then you are a kid, and then you are a pre-teen with a number of psycho serial killer monsters after you. After that, I don't know much.

So I should probably start with something less morbid than that fateful day on the bus, it wasn't a pretty sight. So where do I start then…I got it! The day before!

It was a very nice day, the sun was shining, there were some sunflowers across the field, there were birds singing in the green trees and the lake near me glistened with reflective sunlight. Really, it's true! Unfortunately, I was inside a building, talking to my psychiatrist. Yeah, yeah, I know, I have always been a bit crazy, sort of. See many doctors thought I was a schizophrenic, but I wasn't, there really was a monster under my bed.

So it started out as a normal session, and uhh well this is where my life got a hell of a lot stranger.

I walked in the door to my therapist, Mr. Beck. Mr. Beck was a guy in his mid forties with glasses and no hair. He obviously should not have been talking to younger children because he just looked kinda frightening. Hell, I was scared every time I went to see him. I mean just picture your stereotypical creep and give him a doctorate in psychiatry, and you have Mr. Beck. Umm…Darn I trailed off again, well uhh get the whole seen set up in your head again.

So I walked in the door and Mr. Beck greeted me with his normal greeting, "Hello Art."

"Good morning, Mr. Beck," I replied. "I think that today is very pleasant. (When around Mr. Beck I talked very formal because, in his mind, everyone that didn't was making a mockery of society.) What about you?"

"Yes, it is very pleasant outside this morning. I believe you have a scheduled psychiatric session with me today, am I correct?" asked Beck.

"Yes, sir I do have one." I replied. Though I thought,_ Who the hell does this guy think he is, if he can't even remember when he has a session, how the hell is he supposed to remember my status?_

"Then let us get started," said Mr. Beck, pulling out a note book. Not your consumer grade, mind you. This was a large leather book with silvery pages that you would only use a well made ink pen to write in.

"Have you seen anything odd lately?" Beck asked.

"Do you mean your odd or my odd?" I asked, my voice tinted by humor. Mr. Beck doesn't like humor though he considers it a pathetic attempt at unneeded attention made for the use of small children and stupid adults, if you have ever laughed at anything in the past ten years, I would suggest that you stay away from Mr. Beck.

"I am asking about seeing thing that are not real," Beck growled.

"Sure, like uhh…" I picked up a ball and threw it at one of my spots, yes I see spots, just floating red spots, nothing big. "That spot."

"I understand. Please tell me if you see anything else,"

"Umm, yesterday I saw a very large cat that appeared to eat her kittens, and a dog that bit my left hand… and a mouse that appeared to spy on me… and a really big guy in a tall dark coat who looked like he wanted to kill me."

"So you have seen no improvement with your paranoia disorder?"

"No, sir, I haven't seen any,"

"Well then, have you been taking your pills?"

"No, I thought they were not necessary as they only help with the paranoia and not the illusions or the urges,"

"Mmm…Please tell me about your urges."

"Well I will be alone on a crowded street and suddenly I hear someone say something. A disembodied voice in my head, it is telling me to go somewhere, or hurt someone, or run. It wants me to do things I don't want to do, go to places I don't want to go, and worst of all, it wants me to hurt things, It started with squirrels and mice, but now it's dogs and cats and larger things. It's so hard to control myself, I want to die."

"I see-"

"No! You don't! Nobody does! I…I…I can't live like this anymore. It is so hard going outside and realizing that any minute you could die, or worse, you could kill someone. I just think I might need some other treatment, maybe we could go with more herbal remedies for it this time, please. Nothing is working. Please, try something."

"I will give you a prescription for a calming pill that will help you stay normal."

"All right…" I said hesitantly.

He handed me some pills in a red prescription bottle, you know the ones that are really hard to open. I left without a word and went to the bus stop so I could get home. The bus would be there in like five minutes.

Well, the whole day I thought I was being followed by some creep in a black suit who just radiated evil. I didn't really see any proof until the hobo sitting next to me started looking at me funny. Now, I know what you're thinking, aren't a lot of hobos crazy? Well this one wasn't, because when you are insane and you know it you can just tell when someone is like you and this guy he wasn't, he just smelled bad.

So, I decided to ask him what was the matter.

"What's going on with you?" I asked.

"That man who was following you, do you know him?" he asked back, I guess this was also a reply. I decided to play dumb and get out of him what I could.

"Someone was following me?" I asked.

"That's what I thought," He said, mostly to himself. Then he started talking again, " I don't think you should come round here anymore, that guy just gave me the creeps, when he saw you he raised his head and began to, well, it looked like he was trying to get your scent. I'd go home right now!"

So that's what I did. Now that someone else could see what I saw I was more scared than ever, my worst fears were confirmed.


End file.
